Lawyers and Lunatics
by Kimblee Whitehead
Summary: Hostage situations aren't a lot of fun. Not for anybody. So Alex Cabot and George Huang are taken captive, it's needless to say it's not going to be a very fun night. Especially when someone gets shot.
1. I

**Doctors and Lunatics**

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><p>A soda. A familiar face. A bar.<p>

Although, it really wasn't much of a bar. It was pizza place with a sports bar. A game was on the television, and the woman sat alone at a table next to the bar.

"What, no alcohol?"

George Huang smiled as the blond woman looked up at him, a small smile on her face.

"You were the beer drinker in the relationship, remember?"

Alex Cabot had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, the memories of high-school adventures coming back.

"May I have this seat?" George asked her. She gracefully gave him a simple gesture, and the doctor took seat.

"It's been a while," he said. He had just worked with Manhattan's SVU on a case, and his bosses where working on getting him assigned as their personal psychologist. It wasn't like he had never been loaned out to teams before. However, he had been very surprised when he had found out Alex Cabot was the team's ADA. He imagined she was just as surprised. At least, he hoped she was.

They had played it cool. They perfectly pulled off the part of two colleagues working on a case. They had shaken hands, made small talk, and went on with their business.

Now they were at the bar, ready to catch up on old times. It had been over ten years since they'd heard from each other, after all.

"Do you still smoke?" he asked her. She shook her head, a slightly pained expression crossing her face.

"I've had clean lungs for two years," she replied, "I still get urges when I smell it, though."

"That certainly explains why you don't smell anymore."

She simply rolled her eyes, and took a sip of her drink.

"If I smelled so much, you shouldn't have _'dated'_ me for three years," her smirk grew, "_Georgy_."

It was his turn to roll his eyes, and take a sip of his beer. That nickname made him cringe.

"So, have you come out yet?" Was Alex's next question. He smiled proudly. He was hoping she'd ask that.

"I have, as a matter of fact," he puffed out his chest and took a proud sip of his beverage.

"To your family?"

His pride fell, and he averted his gaze. Not exactly the question he wanted as a follow up.

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought," she smirked, "Don't tell me you have another lesbian stored somewhere to parade around as your girlfriend, to show your folks how straight you are?"

He grinned.

"No Alex, I only made that mistake once," he said, "Besides, you were the_ 'girlfriend'_ to piss off the parents. If I wanted to make them happy, I would have dated Chelsea Wu."

Alex laughed at the statement. She wondered if she would still be considered the girlfriend to piss off the parents. She grinned.

"You know, what I don't understand is, if you wanted to piss off your parents with your lovelife, why you didn't just come out sooner."

"You know the answer to that," Huang replied, "It's the same reason you didn't."

"Touché."

"How about you? Have you come out yet?"

Alex sighed, and bit her lip.

"My mom was the first to find out," Alex replied, a bit of disdain in her voice.

"How did you manage that?" He asked. The woman simply laughed, her face turning a bit red.

"Actually, it was my evil ex-girlfriend who told her. Although, 'told' isn't the right word here. Unless, your definition of 'told is standing outside the house and screaming until the cops finally come."

Huang laughed, having to prevent himself from shooting the sip he just swallowed out of his nose.

"Seriously?" he giggles. Alex just nodded her head, and sighed.

"You know the funny thing?" Alex continued, "I thought I got all of this sexuality crap out of the way a long time ago. Mom figuring it out was the last barrier. Then I started to have awkward dreams about a guy I knew at Harvard."

"You're bisexual?" George asked, raising his eyebrow. He gave Alex a questioning look, and a smile.

"Yeah. Sorry to disappoint you."

"So, if you're bisexual, does that mean-"

"George, if you're going to ask if I actually had feelings for you when we _'dated'_, I'm going to ask that you wait for me to swallow this next sip, so when I laugh at you, soda doesn't spew out of my nose."

George chuckled at her blunt remark. She really hadn't changed a bit. Her biggest weapon was her mind and her voice. It was lethal.

"Glad I could amuse you," he smiled. There was a small part of him that wished Alex was a man. They could have made a lovely couple, had the universe turned out a different way. But the smart part of him was glad that wasn't the case. If it had been, he probably never would have formed the bond he had with her.

He cherished her friendship, that was for sure. In fact, she had kept him alive for those long years in high-school. They had each other's backs, and that's all that mattered.

"You know, George, I have a friend I think you'd like," Alex offered, "I have no idea what your type is anymore, but-"

"It wouldn't happen to be that detective Stabler, would it?" George cut her off. He could still remember the broad detective, and one couldn't deny he was kinda hot.

"Elliot's married, George. And Catholic."

"Can't blame me for asking," he muttered. So much for that. Although, that was a good thing to know for the future.

"That detective Tutuola was also kinda-"

"He would kill you before you finished asking for coffee," Alex said, "That is, if Melinda didn't kill you first."

"I get it, I get it," Huang sighed, "No detectives. So who's your friend?"

That's when it happened. The sound of gun-fire filled the air, followed by the sounds of screams. George instinctively reached for his gun, and placed his body in a way to shield Alex. There were four gunmen in the room, all with hoods. They were in a hold-up.

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><p><strong>I don't know why, but for whatever reason, I love the thought of George and Alex being friends. Any thoughts? Suggestions?<br>Thanks for reading. Don't forget to review! **

**Kimblee Whitehead, we're done here.**


	2. II

**Thank you Sister of the Light, Bucken-Berry, and CuteLittleMomiji for reviewing.**

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><p>They took a single breath, assessing their situation. Four men with guns, and a pizzeria full of terrified people. The room had an eerie silence to it, the only sound they could hear was the rapid pulsing of their hearts.<p>

George felt a nudge on his arm from Alex. He looked at her, and she glanced her eyes down. He followed her gaze, and saw a pen and a napkin. A way of communication.

George shook his head, as much as he wanted to be able to talk to her throughout this situation. He had seen enough hostage situations to know that it wouldn't be allowed. Most likely, they would be forced on their stomachs with their hands over their heads. Although, the men haven't given any orders yet. They were just standing there, looking threatening.

George realized he couldn't use his gun yet. There were four of them, and one of him. There was too much of a chance somebody else would get hurt in the cross fire. If this was one person, he would have the situation dealt with in a heartbeat. But, there were four of them. He only could use his gun as a last resort.

He heard a sigh come from Alex. He was amazed with how brave she was being. Most of the other patrons were shaking in fear right now. She was able to hold it together. Her could see the fear in her eyes, but she wasn't letting that get to her. She truly was a brave woman.

It was then that she grabbed his hand. He was a bit surprised. He realized just how sweaty both of their palms were. He was nervous too. She looked him in the eye, and without braking eye-contact, he felt her start to trace something onto his palm. Letters. She was spelling out her message. He couldn't help but be impressed. Even in a tense situation like this, she managed to use her head.

W…h…a…t

She poked his palm, and George assumed this meant she was starting a new word.

_D…o_

Another poke. Her glance quickly went over to the gun man, trying to make sure their attention wasn't on them.

_W…e_

Another poke. Her fingers were starting to feel even more sweaty, and she was picking up her pace.

_D…o_

She stopped tracing after that, and took a deep breath. Her message. _What do we do?_ He sighed. He could tell that she was terrified. To anyone who didn't know her, she would look fine. Casual. As serious as she always does. However, her eyes and straighter then usual posture gave her away.

He took a deep breath, and adjusted their grip so he could trace out something this time. They both glanced at the gunman, who appeared to be waiting for something. He could only imagine what they would do if they found out the two of them were communicating with each other. Most likely, it would involve the killing end of a gun. He looked back at their grip. It looked like they were holding hands, not communicating.

_W…a…i…t_

He wanted to tell her a lengthy list of instructions on what to do and not do. Alex had never been in a hostage situation, and as smart as she was, she was also very stubborn. Her getting the two of them killed wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

She simply nodded, looking to her soda. He bet she wished she got alcohol now.

The sound of the door opening was heard, and their attention was snapped over there. George cringed. He prayed some sorry person wasn't about to get shot, for walking in at the wrong time.

It was a woman, who looked very confident. She was pretty, George noted. A wavy honey-blonde hair that went past her shoulder, fair skin, brown eyes. She was wearing a white sun dress. She looked like she should be going out to the theater, not a pizza parlor.

"Oh, none of you wore black," she pouted. A grin crossed her face, as she looked at the men with guns, and the people around her.

"I'm late for my own hold-up," she smiled, "What about that."

She started to strut around the room, her heels clanking against the floor. The click managed to bring chills through their spines.

"I guess now that I make hostages, I should make my demands, right?"

She started to look around the room again, a predator like feel to her gaze. Everyone in the room looked away when her eyes fell on them, afraid of what she would do. In what seemed like a nightmare, she seemed to stop at Alex and George. Her grin grew.

"Cute Asian guy," she called out, gesturing him over with a finger, "come here for a second."

Alex let go of his hand, giving him a worried look. He took a deep breath. He could handle this. With a little luck, he would be able to manipulate this situation in his favor.

He was face to face with her, refusing to show any emotion, not wanting to set her off. It didn't take a psychologist to figure out that somebody who took hostage a building was slightly out of their mind.

"I need you to make a call for me," she said. She started to trace her fingers along his chest. It gave him chills. "You can refuse…but," he glance went over to Alex, and there was something in her eyes that George didn't like, "Well, I couldn't guarantee the safety of your…girlfriend? Or maybe she's your mistress. Us blonds do make great mistresses."

He clenched his fists.

"We're not together," he said. It was irrelevant, as he knew she was only trying to agitate him. His mouth said it before his brain could stop him.

"Oh, too bad," she sighed, "But none the less, you wouldn't want to be responsible for her blood on your hands, would you?"

He sighed, looking over to her.

"I'll make the call for you," he sighed.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed, and pulled out a disposable cell phone, handing it to him, "The number is already built into the phone. All you need to do is press call. Tell the person on the other end about the situation. Okay?"

He nodded, and pressed send. He put the phone to his ear, and waited for someone to pick up.

_"Hello?" _Came the answer on the other end. It was a voice he recognized. He had just worked with this person at the Special Victim's Unit.

Before he had a chance to say his name, the sound of a gun went off. He felt a sharp pain in his leg, and fell to the floor. He had been shot.

Gasps of the scared hostages echoed throughout the building, and he heard Alex's voice yell out "George!" The pain hurt like no other. He looked over to his injury, instantly regretting it. Seeing the blood oozing out of his leg only made it feel worse.

"Why did you do that?" Their mystery girl demanded.

"He had a gun," came a male response. The person who shot him. Their girl let out a heavy sigh, and picked up the phone.

"I've taken hostages at the Lil' Ricci's Pizzaria. That sound you just heart was the sound of one of them being shot. Although, he was shot without my permission, so I highly recommend sending an ambulance to get him to a hospital. I want you to be my negotiator, and I will be calling you back in a half hour. Goodbye."

She hung up the phone, looking down to George. She sighed, and looked at Alex. Alex couldn't keep her eyes off of George. She wanted to run to his side, make sure her friend was okay.

But she could only wait. George wasn't there to help her now. She didn't have his protection. She was in this alone.

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><p><strong>I'm very satisfied with how this chapter turned out. Not much else to say here, except maybe asking you to review? Your thoughts are always welcomed.<strong>

**Kimblee**


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